Drunken Toes
by Fire The Canon
Summary: Rosmerta has to deal with a drunk employee who punched a Hogwarts student, the man she loves steps on her toes, almost breaking them, and to finish it off, that same man tells her he wishes to take Madam Puddifoot out to dinner. All in the space of an hour.


_**Written for Sarah (scrumptiousinternetllama) for February Gift Giving Extravaganza (Pairing: KingsleyRosmerta, Prompt: (line) he was close**_

 _ **Written for the Convince Me Competition (KingsleyRosmerta)**_

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 **Drunken Toes**

He was close. Too close, maybe. No, not too close. He was perfectly close. She could feel his breath on the back of her neck. Did he even know what she was thinking? He'd come to collect a statement from one of her employees about a drunken incident that had landed a student in St Mungo's. She was just there to… she was just there.

"And, you say, Mr Greenskin provoked you?"

She sensed the tone of disbelief he carried in his deep voice. Mr Honour was not exactly honourable after a few Firewhiskies when his shift was finished. She'd been out the back at the time of the incident, but young Greenskin never appeared to be a boy to cause trouble…

"Yes, yes, Mr Minister!" Honour cried. "I was there, minding my business, and -"

"Sorry, Rosmerta."

Rosmerta bit her lip. The Minister had just trodden on her foot, maybe crushing her toes. But he'd touched her.

"All… good," she breathed, waving him back to his interrogation.

His dark eyes remained on her, though. She swallowed.

"You look in pain, Rosmerta."

"... fine."

"No, you're not." He set down his quill and notepad on the bar bench, and before she had time to protest, he scooped her up as if she was as light as a feather and took her to the back room. She was ashamed to admit that the unexpected movement had forced a very unladylike squeal from her mouth.

With a wave of his wand, he summoned a comfortable armchair and gently sat her down.

"Minister, I'm fine. It was just an -"

"Kingsley," he said. "My name is Kingsley. None of that Minister nonsense from you, Madam."

Rosmerta blushed. She felt like a schoolgirl talking to her crush for the first time. This was ridiculous. She was almost sixty years old.

Without another word, he removed her boot. His warm fingers studied her sore foot, but he was gentle. She flinched.

"Sorry," he said.

He hadn't hurt her, but she couldn't tell him the real reason for her childish behaviour. Whatever respect he possessed for her now would be gone.

"I can be so clumsy sometimes." He chuckled. Maybe it was a very very bad idea to wish him to be this close. "And I'm so big."

She coughed, feeling another flush coming to her cheeks.

"Thankfully it doesn't look broken, but I can imagine my large cloppers would have hurt. I'm sorry." He lowered her foot and returned his hands to his side, and smiled.

Her heart fluttered like she remembered it doing so on her first ever date as a fifteen year old.

"I'll send for some pain relief for you, Rosmerta. It's the best I can do, as I am no Healer. Now, I better get back to our drunk, as I'm sure he will be trying to escape at this very moment."

The words had barely left the Minister's mouth when the sound of glass shattering sounded from the other side of the door.

Kingsley chuckled. "I remember the days this was my regular job."

Rosmerta nodded, but then something occurred to her. She frowned, attempting to stand up, but her darn foot didn't let her. "Mini - er - Kingsley!"

He spun back around, his face alight with a stunning smile. "Yes, Rosmerta?"

"Why _are_ you here, doing this job? Isn't dealing with my drunk employees a task for the new ones? Or me?"

Kingsley smiled and nodded. "That it is, Rosmerta. I just felt as if I needed to deal with anything that occurred here."

She was about to ask him why, and whether he considered her pub unsafe, but he'd vanished back through the door.

While she sat, feeling like an invalid, she tried to listen to the conversation in her pub. Something to do with a scrawny third year could not possibly give someone like Mr Honour a black eye and three broken ribs. Then something about how Greenskin had, and Honour had proof. Then the booming, charming voice of the Minister for Magic declaring that he'd provoked a third year in his drunken state and was henceforth barred from entering the Three Broomsticks again, which therefore meant he was jobless.

There was a scuffle - perhaps Honour tried to attack Kingsley - and then silence.

Everyone left.

Rosmerta frowned. Okay, he didn't fancy her, but to leave her there, unable to walk… that was just plain rude.

The door swung open again as she'd just started planning her two Knuts to give to him.

Her mouth gaped as she noticed he wasn't dressed in his Ministry official robes anymore, but casual attire that resembled something a Muggle might wear. And he carried a vial of something.

"Well, that's Mr Honour dealt with," he said lightly, as he passed her the tube. "Drink it, it'll help with the pain."

Rosmerta studied him as she unstoppered the potion. "Minist - Kingsley, you're undressed… I mean, not undressed, you're dressed differently." She swallowed the potion in one gulp. Did it cure embarrassment too?

"I'm officially off duty," he declared.

Rosmerta nodded, keeping her mouth tightly shut. Perhaps she shouldn't have swallowed something so revolting in one hit.

"So, about me being here rather than a trainee -"

"Oh, Minister, you don't have to explain to me. What you do is your business." She rubbed her belly. _Oh, Merlin, that was horrible._

He smiled, and what a fine smile it was. "I admit, my reasons for coming her were not work-related."

Her belly bubbled, but perhaps it wasn't the potion this time. "Oh?"

His smile broadened. "No. In fact, a particular lady here as caught my eye, and I thought that straight after I finished, I'd come here and offer to buy her dinner."

Rosmerta sat straight in the chair. "You… would?"

Kingsley nodded. "I'm wondering, does Madam Puddifoot enjoy Italian?"

"Oh, Kingsley, I thought you'd never even considered… oh, um, Puddifoot before. She's really pining after you, you know." _Where's my Firewhisky?_

Kingsley chuckled. "Do you like Italian, Rosmerta?"

"It's alright, I guess." She flopped back into her chair and resisted folding her arms.

"Hm, what about Thai? Greek?"

"Alright," Rosmerta huffed. She could see his whole body trembling with laughter at her foolishness.

"Where would you like to go?"

"Huh?" Again, she sat up.

"Do you really think I'd ask Puddifoot on a date? The woman is mad. Rosmerta, I'm asking you on a date."

"Oh, I…" Her cheeks turned a bright pink.

"Will you allow me to take you to dinner?" He offered his hand to help her to her feet. The pain in her foot had completely vanished now. "After all, it's the best I can do to apologise for injuring you."

Rosmerta smiled, this time without blushing. "You're so charming, Kingsley."

He bowed his head. "I try to be. Now, what is it? Italian, Greek, Thai?"

Rosmerta hooked her arm between is. "Anywhere I won't have to deal with drunks or toes."

Kingsley beamed. "I know just the place!"

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 _ **I love Kingsmerta. They don't get enough love! I am so glad I got the chance to write this pairing again!  
**_

 _ **I hope you all enjoyed!**_


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